Sun Star Child of Light
by Arwen4
Summary: When Elrond's wife was taken by Orcs, his unborn daughter was taken as well. When Celebrien returned to Rivendell, Anorel did not. This is her story.
1. Default Chapter

Author's note ~ I decided to try my hand at a romance fan-fic. :) :) This is a new area for me , so please be kind. I would appreciate constructive criticism from my readers on this story, and if I get enough reviews, I will continue it. :) :) :) :) And yes, Legolas will be making an appearance, or actually, more than one. :) :) :) Enjoy it!   
Arwen  
  
Disclaimer ~ I own none of these characters, save Anorel. Sadness. :) :) They belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien.   
  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
Chapter I ~ "Anorel"  
  
  
  
The Second Age. Celebrien, wife of Elrond, had been captured by Sauron, Morgoth's lieutenant. At the time of her capture, Celebrien was pregnant. When she escaped Sauron's clutches and returned to Imladris and her husband, her daughter did not.   
  
Anorel, daughter of Elrond and Celebrien, grew up in the depths of Mordor, knowing nothing of beauty or forests, or that she herself was an Elf. Sauron took insane delight in her, one moment treating her like a valued possession, the next torturing her terribly.   
  
So it was for a thousand years that Anorel lived in darkness and death, under the wing of the Dark Lord. But he could not break her. Although she knew not what she was, she knew what she was not. She was not an Orc, that much was obvious, and she was not like Sauron himself. One night, this fact became painfully clear.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
An iron door screamed on its hinges as an Orc ripped it open. The darkness was complete, save for a single torch sitting in a bracket on a wall. The torch light flickered eerily across the ugly faces of the Orcs, and across the face of someone else. Her features held some great ethereal beauty, despite the shadows and darkness of her location.   
  
The Orcs growled and grunted among themselves in Black Speech, a language that she had learned to despise in all its ugliness. Why she hated it, she did not yet know.  
  
"What does the Master want us to do with her?" one asked, tightening his grip on Anorel's ankle as he dragged her through the corridor. Under normal circumstances, Anorel would have walked, but today Sauron had been in a foul temper and had taken it out on her. She was unconscious, or so thought.  
  
"Put her in the dungeon," Grondel, current captain of Sauron's guard, growled. "She'll have a long rest before he starts in on her again."  
  
They laughed with fiendish delight, for their very natures made them love cruelty, especially to the innocent.   
  
Another door creaked open. Anorel was lifted high and flung into the darkest of dungeon cells. She landed in dank water, soaking her to the very skin. Sadly, the water was not fit to drink, unless the taster wished to die a very painful death.   
  
She moaned, finding enough strength to lift herself into a sitting position. Stabbing pain shot through her chest. Instantly, hot tears sprang to her eyes and her hand strayed to her ribcage. Anorel sighed when her probing fingers touched upon a tender spot. He had done more damage to her than she thought. At least one rib was broken, three or four more were badly bruised. Her other injuries were less severe, amounting only to a sprained wrist and various gashes and bruises.   
  
"He was angry today," Anorel mused, her voice filled with pain. But deep underneath the torture, there was a lightness and eloquence to her speech that could not be denied.   
  
Anorel leaned back against the slimy wall, a familiar longing growing in her heart and in her mind. She longed for another place, a place of light and beauty. Anorel laughed bitterly, glancing around. "I know not if such a land even exists beyond my mind," she whispered.   
  
As she spoke, weariness fell on her. Anorel lay flat on the cold stone, pillowed her head on her arms, and fell asleep. For the first time in her thousand years, Anorel's eyes did not close upon drifting off into the world of dreams.  
  
The effect was instantaneous. As soon as her mind let go, Anorel found herself in a place so beautiful it brought tears to her hazel eyes. It was a forest, with hundreds upon thousands of trees. The only trees she had ever seen were tiny scrubs that died as soon as they breathed the air of Mordor. But these trees were tall and healthy, these trees were happy! The pain in her side was forgotten.  
  
Anorel reached hesitantly toward one, wanting to feel the tree, and sense its life. As soon as her fingers touched the bark, a tear slid down her cheek. She could feel the tree's joy at seeing her, at feeling her touch. It was an experience that she would never forget.  
  
The tree whispered gently, "Welcome to happiness, little one. We have waited long for you."  
  
Anorel stepped back, her eyes wide. "You speak! How is it that you can speak to me?"  
  
Another voice, quite different from the soft, showery voice of the oak, laughed softly. "You act as though you have never seen a tree before!"  
  
For the first time in her life, Anorel saw someone like herself. He was tall, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. And he was smiling at her in amusement.  
  
"It is true," she whispered. "This is the first true tree that I have ever seen." Anorel turned back to the forest, her eyes bright. "I have often found myself longing for such a place as this, but I never thought that it would actually exist!"  
  
"How is it that you have never seen a tree?" he asked, stunned. "You are a Wood-Elf, that I can feel! Wood Elves are at home with the trees, and feel much pain when one is felled. I am a Wood-Elf myself!"  
  
Anorel whipped around, tears shining brightly in her eyes and sliding down her cheeks. "What is it that you call me?"  
  
Legolas, for that was his name, shook his head in wonder. "You are a Wood-Elf, a Silvan Elf. Though your appearance is that of a Noldar, only a Silvan Elf can have such reverence for trees." He bowed his head gently, watching her carefully.   
  
She sank to the dark earth, carefully lifting a handful of damp dirt and letting it sift through her fingers. "I never dreamed that such life could exist." Anorel smiled brightly, feeling truly free, for now she knew what she was and what she had been longing for. "So I am an Elf!"   
  
Legolas knelt before her, an eyebrow raised. He reached forward and carefully lifted her hair away from her left ear. Her ear came to a delicate tip. "Yes, you are an Elf. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, and you are in Mirkwood Forest, my home."  
  
Anorel leaned forward and touched his ears, running her fingers over the tips. "Do all Elves have pointed ears, Legolas?"  
  
He laughed gaily, his blue eyes dancing merrily. "Yes, all Elves have pointed ears." His face darkened slightly. "How is it that you know so little of your own people?"  
  
She bit her lip, glancing at the ground. "Well, first, my name is Anorel. I know nothing of who I am, who my parents are, where I come from. I believe that right now I am asleep in a dungeon deep in Barad-Dur. I have been there for my entire life. For a thousand years, all I knew was pain and darkness. I had no idea that such a place as this truly existed, or that there was a world outside of Mordor."  
  
"How have you survived for so long? Any other Elf would have given up life long ago, yet you, who knows nothing of who and what you are, have lived!" Legolas said, shocked.   
  
"Perhaps that is what has kept me alive," she mused. "I knew that I was not like an Orc, yet I knew that I was not like Sauron. I wanted to know what I am, and why I have never seen another like me!"   
  
"You are an enigma, Anorel," Legolas said with a soft smile. "I know nothing of you, and you know little more of yourself. Perhaps my father can help unravel this mystery. He knows much of the Second Age, in which both you and I were born. I will speak with him upon my awakening."  
  
She was about to thank him when, suddenly, cold hands gripped her, ripping her from the warmth and happiness of Mirkwood. Mirthless laughter pounded into her sensitive ears, and Anorel curled up into a ball, wishing for the Orcs to leave her. The forest and Legolas faded, and the cold, wet cell reappeared.   
  
Tears streaked down her cheeks. Finally, she had been given answers, only to have it snatched away.   
  
Grondel thrust his ugly face close to hers, his foul breath nearly overwhelming her. "On your feet! Master wants a word with you!"  
  
Anorel nearly passed out from the waves of pain as the Orcs roughly yanked her to her feet. One took the initiative and struck her side with his spear shaft. Anorel dropped to her knees with a weak whimper and coughed, trying to breath through the pain and failing miserably.  
  
Grondel grabbed the Orc by the neck and slammed it against the wall. "Master wants her awake, you fool!" he snarled. "She's no good to him if she can't feel pain!"  
  
Anorel groaned, feeling her strength fade. The blow must have broken other ribs, for even a small breath brought pain enough to scream. She slid down the wall and lay in a heap, falling into unconsciousness.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
In Thranduil's palace in Mirkwood, Legolas awoke, breathing hard. He sat bolt upright, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. His eyes closed and he rubbed a hand over his forehead, laying back onto the pillow. Anorel had been taken away, it was obvious that she had not awoken of her own accord.   
  
Swinging his legs over the bed, Legolas pulled on a light shirt and his boots. Sleep would not come again this night, and he needed to speak with his father.   
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Fate had been drawn against Anorel since her birth, but fate is a fickle thing. And perhaps, fate is not infallible.  
  
  
Well? What do you think? Please review and let me know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	2. "Questions Answered"

Author's note ~ Thank you so much for the reviews! I love it! Please keep them coming!  
  
  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
  
Chapter II ~ "Questions Answered"  
  
  
  
Mirkwood Forest was just beginning to come to life. The sun had not yet made her appearance, but the sky to the east was slowly lightening from black to gray. Day was coming, and Legolas had questions to ask his father.  
  
The corridors of the palace were mostly deserted, save for the elves guarding the royal family. They snapped to attention as the prince swept by them, intent on reaching his father's chambers quickly.  
  
Finally, Legolas reached the oaken doors that barred the way into Thranduil's abode. He knocked sharply, hoping that his father was indeed awake. The guards eyed each other nervously, as the King did not often take kindly to being disturbed in the morning.  
  
"Come in!" came a commanding voice that Legolas knew well, and could himself use when necessary.  
  
Legolas pushed open the doors and walked into the lavish entryway. The doors swung silently closed behind him as he walked into his father's bedroom. "Atar," Legolas murmured, bowing his head in respect.  
  
King Thranduil motioned for his youngest son to enter and sit. "You rarely visit me so early, my son," Thranduil smiled. "Is something troubling you?"  
  
"Indeed, Father. Last night, as I slept, I met someone. She was unlike any Elf that I have ever seen, for I knew what she was at a glance, yet she had no idea." Legolas sat on a couch near to his father's chair. "I was hoping that you could help me unravel this mystery."  
  
"What could she tell you of herself?" Thranduil asked, steepling his fingers and gazing at his son.  
  
"Only her name, Anorel. And that for a thousand years, she has been in Barad-Dur, imprisoned by Sauron."  
  
Thranduil's eyes widened with shock, an emotion rarely seen on his face. "You say she has been in Barad-Dur for a thousand years?" He stood, walking over to a window that faced the west. "Well, my son, you have found someone who has long been thought to be dead." Thranduil sighed, turning to face his son. "She is Elrond's youngest child, Legolas. Though how she has survived such torment is a mystery in itself."  
  
Legolas sighed softly, watching the floor. "She knows nothing of the world outside of Mordor, save for a slim patch of Mirkwood's trees that she saw in her dreams last night. How is it that she came to be in Mordor at all?"  
  
"Alas, Legolas, that story is wrought with pain and tears." Thranduil sat upon a couch that he had brought next to his son's. "And it will take most of the day to tell." Seeing the stubborn look on Legolas' face, he smiled. "But I can see that you are not to be dissuaded. Very well then, I shall tell it."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Celebrien, wife of Elrond, turned one last time to the fair forest of Lothlorien. It had been her home for so long, and now she had to say good- bye yet again, for it was time for her to return to Imladris. Little did she know that the journey would be much longer and harder than she ever would have expected.  
  
"Good-bye, Lothlorien," she murmured, unknowingly pressing her hand to her swollen abdomen. Celebrien had wanted her unborn daughter to know the Golden Wood before she was born, so that Anorel would feel a connection to Lothlorien.  
  
"My lady, if we wish to make a fair distance today, then we should leave now," Glorfindel said softly, coming up behind her.  
  
"Yes, I know," Celebrien sighed, turning and mounting her horse. "Elrond wishes for our speedy return. I can only hope that the journey is easy."  
  
Glorfindel nodded with a small smile, mounting his own horse, and the small party moved off through the trees, aiming for the Misty Mountains.  
  
That night was spent in the shadow of the mountains, and Celebrien was already ruing the trip. Her entire body ached, even though she was more than used to hard travel. It had been a normal part of her life for many years, but Celebrien had made a point of not traveling when she was pregnant. But when she set out from Rivendell three months ago, she had not known that she was pregnant.  
  
Glorfindel kneeled before her, concern obvious on his face. "Are you all right, my lady?" he asked, remembering well Elrond's command to watch out for her.  
  
"Yes, I am only tired," Celebrien said. "When will we reach Rivendell?"  
  
"If we continue on this pace for the entire journey, then it should take no more than twenty days."  
  
She sighed, leaning her head back against the tree she was sitting next to. "Twenty days. Thank you, Glorfindel." Once he had walked away, Celebrien spread out a blanket and lay on it, more willing sleep to come upon her then wanting it.  
  
It was only a few hours later that she awoke. Orcs had come upon them in the night and were now wreaking havoc on the camp.  
  
Celebrien gasped and pulled herself up off the ground. One moment, her guards seemed to be driving the Orcs away; the next, a giant cave troll thundered into the camp. The troll held a giant mace in one hand, and it swept through the mass of Orcs, not caring if its club struck Elf or Orc. Celebrien knew the instant that Glorfindel was knocked to the ground that the battle was over.  
  
Then, everything went black.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thranduil sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Thirteen months later, Celebrien walked into Rivendell. I was there that day, and I remember well what happened. She tried for nearly a year to return to normal life, but for her, it was impossible. Elrond was able to heal her outer wounds, but not even his deep love for her could mend the hurts inside. The day she boarded a ship bound for the west, she told him of Anorel, and for years, Elrond searched diligently for her, hoping to find his youngest child still alive. To this day, I do not think that my friend has given up all hope."  
  
"And now she has been found," Legolas said softly, gazing at his father. "Should I speak to Anorel of this? She knows so little of life outside Mordor, it may do her good."  
  
Thranduil watched his son with a scrutiny born of many millennia on Middle Earth. "Listen to your heart in this matter, my son. I know not what you should do, or even what I should do about this. To know that his daughter was still alive would be a great gift to Elrond, but he would also want to free her from Barad-Dur. An impossible feat for even him right now."  
  
Legolas smiled quickly, understanding forming in his mind. "Atar, she may free herself, given the time. If she were to be told that she does indeed have a family, then Anorel may escape on her own."  
  
"Perhaps," Thranduil said. "But if what you say is indeed the case, then Anorel may not want to leave Mordor. It is the only home that she has ever known, despite the fact that she has been shown only pain and darkness there. Mordor is familiar to her, Elf or no. And she may well consider Sauron himself to be her father."  
  
"But she knows that he is not! Anorel told me herself that she is not like him."  
  
"She may know that he is not her true father," Thranduil conceded. "But he is all she has ever known."  
  
Legolas groaned, laying his forehead in his hands. "I sincerely hope that that is not the case." He glanced at his father, remembering her injuries. "When I saw her, she had been harmed. Though she ignored it, the injuries seemed to be both recent and not."  
  
Thranduil stood, laying his hands on his youngest son's shoulders. "Then we can only hope that she stays strong until her escape." He gave Legolas an encouraging smile and walked out.  
  
Legolas watched his father leave, then slowly made his way out onto the balcony. The sun was now setting in the west, and he could not help but feel his hopes sink with it.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Anorel screamed in pain as a spear shaft broke across her side, driving her broken ribs deeper. She dropped to her knees and coughed. Scarlet blood dripped onto the floor from a gash on her cheek, and waves of pain broke over her.  
  
"Take her back and tend to her," a cold, malevolent voice ordered. "I want her to be fully healed as quickly as possible."  
  
The Orcs dragged her back to her cell and roughly bound her ribs, ignoring the lesser injuries she had sustained that day. Once they left her to her pain, Anorel allowed a single tear to fall from her eyes.  
  
  
  
Atar ~ father  
  
(For those who don't know, Imladris is another name for Rivendell.) :) :)  
  
I know, I know, what a really depressing and horrible way to end a chapter. Sorry! :) :) I know exactly where this is heading, though, so things will get better. I just don't know when. :) :) :)  
  
Arwen 


	3. "Destiny Made"

Author's note ~ This story takes place about a thousand years before "Fellowship of the Ring".  
  
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
  
Chapter III ~ "Destiny Made"  
  
Three days and two nights had passed, and Legolas had seen nothing of Anorel in his dreams. He was becoming concerned; no, he had been concerned for some time now. He was worried. Legolas was so caught up in his own thoughts that he failed to notice the dark shape looming before him.  
  
"Legolas? Are you all right?"  
  
Legolas blinked, his mind registering the tall shape of his older brother, Eithon. "Yes. I am fine." But as soon as the words left him, he groaned, knowing that his brother could see right through them.  
  
Eithon raised an unbelieving eyebrow, smiling at his younger brother. "To this day, you cannot lie to me, Legolas. It simply is not possible. What is troubling you?"  
  
Legolas walked out onto a nearby terrace before he answered, using the time to consider his response. "Life is troubling me, brother. It is hard to believe that even fate herself could be so cruel as this."  
  
Eithon leaned against the railing, ignoring the dark brown hair that was fluttering around his face in the warm evening breeze. "You speak of Anorel, do you not?"  
  
"Father told you," Legolas said softly, knowing the truth ere his brother spoke. "I am not surprised."  
  
"If you wish to know why the Valar picked some Elves to live in peace and others to be subject to torment, I fear I have no answer to give you. I myself do not understand their reasoning." Eithon smiled softly, touching his younger brother's shoulder. "But you are kind-hearted, Legolas. Perhaps that will serve you well in the coming days."  
  
Legolas sighed, turning to Eithon. There was concern in his brother's eyes, and Legolas could not help but smile back. "Thank you, Eithon. Your words do help, even if they do not offer me any answers." Legolas looked out over again, watching the sun sink behind low, dark, clouds. "I should retire, brother. I have much to think about."  
  
Eithon nodded, catching his brother in a quick hug. "Sleep well, little brother."  
  
If anyone other than Eithon had called him `little brother', Legolas would have taken great offense. But instead, he hugged his brother back and walked away. A few minutes later, he nodded to his guards and pushed open the doors to his chambers. His bedroom was dimly lit with many candles, but he liked it that way. Too much light was distracting, especially when he wanted to have an uninterrupted sleep, as he did tonight.  
  
Lighting flashed outside and Legolas glanced out at the sky. The clouds had moved in and were dropping large raindrops. He pulled his balcony doors closed and sighed.  
  
Legolas walked over to his dresser and pulled open the doors. He pulled off his shirt and hung it up, picking up his night clothes. Slipping them on, Legolas slid the sheets back on his bed and lay down, taking a deep breath. He slowly drifted off into the land of dreams.  
  
He was in Mirkwood, the same place that he had been when he first met Anorel. Legolas glanced around, and he groaned. Anorel was there, but she was curled up into a ball at the foot of a tall oak tree. Legolas crossed over to her quickly, laying a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Anorel!" he whispered, kneeling beside her.  
  
Anorel shuddered, lifting her head slightly. Her face was deathly pale, and there was fear in her hazel eyes. "What?" she breathed brokenly, as though every word cost her great pain. Anorel gazed at Legolas and pushed her blonde hair away from her face. "Legolas," she said quietly, tears sparkling in her eyes.  
  
"What is it?" he said, laying a hand on her cheek and brushing away the tears that lay there.  
  
She pushed herself up off the ground slowly and braced herself against the tree trunk, wincing in pain and unconsciously laying a hand on her stomach.  
  
Legolas watched her and shook his head, pushing her hand away. Carefully, Legolas pressed his fingers to her sides, narrowing his eyes as he felt gaps where there should not be gaps. Anorel hissed in pain, turning her head away.  
  
"Broken ribs," he murmured, leaning back. "Do you have any other injuries?"  
  
Anorel shook her head, her eyes closed tightly against the onslaught of pain. "No, I think the broken ribs are enough."  
  
He sat beside her, chuckling dryly. "I agree, Anorel. Is there anything that I can do to help?"  
  
She glanced at him, tears dripping down her cheeks. Anorel bit her lip and slid closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. "You can stay with me," she whispered tiredly. "The Orcs will wake me up soon, I can feel it. But until then, I want to be happy."  
  
Legolas slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, realizing that he had to tell her. "My father and I spoke a few days ago, and he told me about your family. You have a father, a sister, and two brothers, but they do not know that you still live."  
  
"Perhaps that is for the best," she whispered. "I do not want to cause them pain with my death, as it is near at hand."  
  
He glanced down at her in surprise. "Why say that? Is there no hope of escape?"  
  
"If I am taken into Sauron's throne room one more time," she said, "I will not come out again alive."  
  
"Then why do you not attempt escape? Is there no way out of Barad-Dur?" Legolas asked, feeling worry creep up on him again.  
  
Her next words chilled him straight to the heart. "Not for me, save in death. Elves are creatures of light, yet I have lived in darkness. I doubt that I can survive outside of Mordor, Legolas."  
  
"So what do you mean to do?! Give up your life without knowing what the outside world looks like? Or even feels like?!" Legolas stood, shaking his head angrily. "No, Anorel. Your father loves you, and he would know you. I have not even seen you, save in dreams like this."  
  
She rose, almost as tall as he. "So you would rather have me die in a futile attempt at freedom? Barad-Dur is overrun with Orcs, I would not make ten steps without a sword in my stomach!"  
  
"Then fight them!" he snapped, his blue eyes burning into hers. "You are Elrond's youngest child, he is both a warrior and a healer. Powerful blood flows through your veins, Anorel. And you yourself are strong."  
  
Anorel groaned, leaning again against the tree. "Legolas, even if I were to escape Barad-Dur, I would not live past the borders of Mordor. I know not where to go, or what I may find. What you ask is impossible!"  
  
"Impossible?" he said incredulously. "What is impossible is that you have survived a thousand years in Barad-Dur. My father was not willing to believe it, he would not have if it had been any other Elf who told him. Your very existence is impossible, Anorel. Yet here you are, standing before me now!"  
  
She was about to argue again, but she thought better of it. Anorel shook her head with a laugh. "All right, Legolas. You have me convinced. I will escape Barad-Dur upon my awakening, if I can."  
  
Legolas smiled. "Good. Make for the north when you pass out of Mordor. It will take many days, but you will reach this forest, and if all goes well, I will meet you there."  
  
~~~~~~~  
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	4. "Escape"

Author's note ~ This story is rated "G", so I can't really go into detail with the battle scenes. But I will do my best. Please bear with me! Anorel gets pretty beat up in this chapter, but it is key to the rest of the story.  
  
Arwen  
  
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
  
Chapter IV ~ "Escape"  
  
When the Orcs shook Anorel awake that day, they had no idea what horror they were unleashing. She blinked, gazing blearily up at the ugly creatures. The pain that had been constant throughout her dreams was pushed to the back of her mind as she prepared for her escape.  
  
Grondel pushed the smaller Orcs aside and grinned evilly down at Anorel. "Well, my sweet," he hissed, shoving his face closer to hers. "I would enjoy keeping you here for now, but the Master wants you in his throne room. So get up!" He shoved the Elf onto the floor, not expecting in the least for her to retaliate.  
  
Without any warning, her left leg whipped out and caught the large Orc behind his knee, yanking him onto the floor. Anorel easily jumped up and kicked the Orc in the stomach. "I will not be going to the throne room today, Grondel. My deepest apologies."  
  
The other Orcs finally realized that their commander was being attacked and surrounded Anorel, growling and poking at her with their swords and spears. She raised an eyebrow at them, almost laughing at their stupidity.  
  
"Fools," she said with a grim smile, sliding backwards and picking up Grondel's sword. It was balanced badly, but it was all she had to work with. Anorel swung the sword around and sliced three spearheads off their shafts. The melee was joined. She fought her way to the cell door and yanked it shut, trapping the Orcs inside.  
  
"All right," she muttered to herself. "I must avoid contact with them as much as possible. The easier I can escape, the better."  
  
Sadly, her wish was not to come true. Indeed, Anorel had made it part way through the winding corridors of Barad-Dur before she was found, but she was found. A massive Orc filled the doorway ahead of her, an equally large sword in its hand. Anorel groaned, thinking that she should not have left her purloined sword at the cell.  
  
"What is this? An Elf trying to escape?" the Orc said happily, brandishing his weapon at her.  
  
There was no escaping this conflict. Either the Orc would die, or she would die. And Anorel had no intentions of dying. Unfortunately, neither did the Orc.  
  
She easily ducked his sword swing and rammed her shoulder into the Orc's stomach. It laughed, flinging her into a stone wall. Anorel groaned, shaking her head and glancing around. She had landed next to a lit torch with a sharp point. Ripping it out of its bracket, Anorel brandished it at the Orc, flame first.  
  
"Pitiful," he growled, lunging at her. Anorel did not duck quickly enough this time, as her head still hurt from being smacked against the wall. The tip of his huge sword slammed through her right shoulder, breaking off deep inside her. Anorel sank to the floor, her scream ringing loud through the halls of Barad-Dur. The Orc loomed over her and bent.  
  
Somehow, just before the Orc picked her up, Anorel flipped the torch around and shoved it into the vile creature's stomach. Dark, foul-smelling blood gushed out of the wound and onto her arm, bringing with it a repulsive shudder from her. Anorel pushed the Orc corpse away and ran, a hand clamped tightly over her heavily bleeding shoulder. The dress she was wearing had been tattered for some time, and the battles that she had been through already did not help its condition.  
  
Anorel skidded to a halt, her eyes darting into a brightly lit room. Barad-Dur was a very dark place, to have a room that was well-lit was something of a miracle! She slowly walked and her breath caught in her throat. There was a very good reason for this room to be bright, what was in it bore a light of its own. There was a near-perfect set of Elven clothes, complete with cloak, hanging on one wall and a table just beneath it bore a duo of two Elvish knives and a single short sword. As she looked at them, Anorel felt a sense of familiarity toward the weapons, though she did not understand why.  
  
Grabbing a pack that lay under the table, Anorel pushed the clothes into it, along with the knives. She used one of the pack's straps to slow the bleeding in her shoulder, then slung the whole thing over her back. The sword she slid through her belt.  
  
"Well," she whispered, placing the cloak around her shoulders, "if I must meet more Orcs this day, I at least will be armed for the conflict."  
  
Already she felt weak from loss of blood, and Anorel knew that she would probably not survive another confrontation.  
  
Thankfully, she did not have another confrontation. The Orcs that she passed seemed to look right at her and not see her. Anorel quickly made her way to the great stone doors of Barad-Dur and slipped out into the dim sunlight. For the very first time in her life, Anorel felt the warm sunshine on her face, but it was mingled with the stench of sulfur and decay.  
  
Anorel scoured the horizon, looking for a way to go. She knew that the stab wound on her shoulder would have to be cleaned as quickly as possible, but the water of Mordor was not suitable for the task. Slowly, a gap in the mountain range came into view, and along with it, Anorel felt a surge of triumph. That was her way out. Now if only she could make it.  
  
"Well, Legolas," she whispered to the air, "you were right. I have escaped."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Countless leagues away, high in the palace of Mirkwood, Prince Legolas Greenleaf smiled. 


	5. "The First Meeting"

Author's note ~ I decided to take a break from "And the Fellowship of the Ring Shall Be Ten" to finish this story. So from now on, updates on this one should be fairly common. :) :) :) It's really hard to keep up with two stories, especially when one of them is really really long.  
  
Also, for some of you hard-core romance fans, this story will not be like that. I'm not entirely certain of how it's going to end yet (yikes). ( And a word of warning, this story will be depressing. It should provoke sad and angry feelings, I hope. :) :) :) )  
  
Oh, well, enough of my rambling. :) :) Enjoy the next chapter!  
  
  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
  
Chapter V ~ "The First Meeting"  
  
  
  
Anorel felt ill. The stab wound in her shoulder had become badly infected and, because the sword tip was still embedded in her flesh, the wound had not closed at all.  
  
She had stumbled out of Mordor some two days earlier. Now, Anorel was growing weak from hunger and lack of sleep.  
  
Anorel sank to her knees at the shore of the river Anduin, thoroughly exhausted. As the waters lapped at her knees, Anorel felt somewhat calmer. She dropped the pack on the rocky shore and waded slowly into the river's deep water.  
  
The pure waters of the Anduin washed the dirt and grime from her body and hair, massaging Anorel's aching muscles in the process. She pressed her fingers to her shoulder and hissed as blood seeped out of the gash. "Alas," she whispered, "if only Mirkwood was not so far away. I may not survive long enough to reach it."  
  
She ripped a long strip of cloth from the bottom hem of her dress and tied it tightly around the wound, gritting her teeth to keep from yelling at the pain it caused. Anorel stepped out of the water and pulled open her pack, changing quickly from into the far cleaner and stronger traveling clothes.  
  
"Well, distance matter naught right now. I have no choice but to survive."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Three and a half weeks later, the doors to the Great Chamber were flung open. The many Elves that were sitting around the table all looked toward the door. Legolas walked briskly around the table and knelt quickly beside his father's chair.  
  
"Atar, she is coming. I know not how far away Anorel truly is, but I need your permission to leave the city to find her," Legolas said, ignoring the strange glances he was getting from the other Elves.  
  
Thranduil pursed his lips slightly, his eyes meeting his son's. "You may go, but I want you to take guards with you. At least six, my son. And you must stay with them at all times."  
  
Legolas nodded, he had anticipated this and already had his guards picked out. They were waiting for him in front of the palace. "I know not when I will return, Father. But I will make haste."  
  
"Good fortune go with you then, Legolas. And remember that you are my son, conduct yourself accordingly." Thranduil smiled and laid a hand on his son's shoulder, pushing Legolas on his way.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Just before he reached the courtyard, Legolas felt someone grab him from behind and slam him into a wall. If he had not seen the face of his assailant, Legolas would have struck out instinctively. Instead, he sighed and shook his head . "Eithon, one day soon your surprise attacks will get you injured."  
  
Eithon grinned broadly at his younger brother. "Be careful, little brother. And bring her back safely."  
  
"I will, Eithon, I will. That is one thing that I am sure I will do." Legolas did not wait for his brother to embrace him, he hugged Eithon quickly. "Take care, brother."  
  
With that, Legolas flew out of the palace and leapt lightly onto his waiting horse. "We go south," he ordered.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Two days later, Legolas reined in his white horse suddenly. The Elven Prince held up a fist, warning his companions to slow.  
  
"What is it, Prince Legolas? Is something wrong?" asked Miron, one of his guards.  
  
Legolas closed his eyes and concentrated carefully. In the three days since he had first felt her presence, Legolas had been homing in on Anorel. The farther south his party went, the stronger the feeling became. Now he was close, Legolas was sure of it. "Nothing is wrong," he said, dismounting. "I believe we have found our quarry. Stay here, if I need assistance, I will call for you."  
  
Miron's face darkened angrily. "I cannot do that, my prince. Your father wishes for you to stay with us at all times."  
  
"And I will be in hearing distance. If I need you, I will call!" Legolas snapped, handing his reins to the older Elf. "But you shall remain here."  
  
"Under protest, Prince Legolas," said Miron, taking the horse.  
  
"Then that is how it will be," sighed Legolas, unsheathing one of his knives and walking into the dense trees. Mirkwood was not unwarranted in its name, for even in the bright sunlight of early afternoon the light off the path was dim.  
  
Legolas wound his way carefully through the trees, searching for Anorel.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Anorel had been in Mirkwood for two days and she was thoroughly lost. The stab wound in her shoulder was now throbbing with every step she took, and try as she might, Anorel could not bring herself to go any further. Darkness was creeping in at the edges of her vision as Anorel sank to her knees at the foot of a large oak tree. The exhaustion that had been a part of her life for the last month finally caught up with her, and Anorel fell into merciful unconsciousness.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
What first caught his attention about this particular tree was the faint ray of light that shone on the mossy ground at its base. His sharp eyes followed the light and widened slightly.  
  
"Anorel," Legolas whispered, kneeling beside her. The relief he felt dimmed considerably as he saw her pale face and blood-stained tunic. Quickly, Legolas checked for her pulse and was pleased to feel it, weak though it was. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her swiftly back to the path.  
  
"Miron," he called, laying Anorel gently on the soft grass by the camp.  
  
Miron took one look at her and groaned. "You and I must leave now if we are to save her. I am not certain, but I think she may have internal injuries in addition to this," he said, motioning to her shoulder.  
  
"All right," Legolas agreed, lifting Anorel onto his horse and leaping lightly on behind her. "Rest for tonight then follow us back," he commanded to the remaining guards. "Do not tax your horses unnecessarily."  
  
With those last words, Legolas and Miron left for Mirkwood Palace, hoping against hope to reach it in time. For though she had been found, Anorel was at death's door.  
  
  
  
Sorry it took me so long to update, I didn't mean to keep you in such suspense. :) :) Okay, yes I did. But I'm still sorry.  
  
I don't know if anyone will have a problem with this, but as she is not a pure Elf, Anorel's injuries can become infected. Elrond is part human, so therefore his children would be too. I just wanted to clear that up in case people had questions. 


	6. "Flight"

Author's note ~ I know where this story is heading now!!! (Jumps for joy). However, I don't think it's what you're all expecting, but I could be wrong. :) :) :) One never knows. Anyway, enjoy!  
  
SO SO SO SO SORRY it took me so long to update!!!!!! I have been extremely busy and have had very little time to write. Plus, this chapter did not want to come. My humble apologies and I promise that I will finish this soon. I know directly where it is going and how it is ending.  
  
~ Arwen  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
  
Chapter IV ~ "Flight"  
  
Legolas rode up to his father's palace, exhausted but overwhelmingly happy to be home. He carefully pulled Anorel from the saddle, cradling her gently in his arms as he flew into the palace.  
  
The doors swung open to admit him, seemingly of their own accord. Eithon met Legolas in the corridor, his face dark with worry. "How goes the day, my brother?"  
  
Legolas sighed, slacking in his pace only slightly. "It could be better, Eithon, it could be better. Her life rests upon the edge of a knife, a tiny push could send her into darkness."  
  
"The guards saw you coming from afar and alerted me. The best healer in Mirkwood awaits your friend, Legolas. Bring her in here," Eithon instructed, opening an ornately decorated door.  
  
The healer jumped to his feet and motioned for Anorel to be placed on the bed. He then pushed Legolas and Eithon out of the chambers. "You cannot help her now, young prince," he said softly, cutting off the retort stemming from Legolas' lips. "All you can do is wait."  
  
Eithon, seeing the mutinous look settle onto his younger brother's face, gently took Legolas's arm and led him from the room. "He is right, brother. She is beyond your help. Only a few hands could save her now."  
  
Legolas sank gracefully into a nearby chair, realizing that he could now safely rest. "Has anything of interest happened since my departure?"  
  
"Nay, save that Father dispatched riders to Rivendell. They will bring the Lord Elrond with them upon their return."  
  
"I think she will not be ready to lay eyes upon her father," Legolas murmured, gazing at his brother. "Her survival will depend upon sheer will, her father may hinder that process."  
  
Eithon raised an inquisitive eyebrow at this curious statement. "How came you to that conclusion? I would think that Elrond would aid her recovery."  
  
"But she knows him not. Being here in Mirkwood will be difficult enough after the gloom of Mordor. It will take time for her to become accustomed to this land. If she wakes and sees her father, he may act as a catalyst and shatter her." Legolas sighed, leaning back deeper into his chair.  
  
"Think you that she is that frail?" Eithon questioned, concern passing over his face.  
  
Legolas shrugged, his bright blue eyes full of contemplation. "I know not, brother. But I think it is not worth the chance."  
  
"And I agree with you, young prince," a deep, powerful sounding voice assured from above.  
  
Legolas and Eithon jumped to their feet, both shocked beyond words. Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, stood before them, his deep blue eyes narrowed.  
  
"Your words are spoken in truth, Legolas son of Thranduil. I will heed them, for they are in my heart as well. My purpose here is to save my youngest child. Once that is accomplished, I will return to Rivendell and await my daughter's arrival."  
  
Legolas bowed his head in a gesture of respect and murmured, "I trust I have given you no offense, my lord."  
  
"None, young Legolas. I think perhaps your clear thinking will serve you well in later days, on a quest of even greater necessity than the one you have just completed. Now, where is Anorel?" Elrond asked, gazing down upon them steadily.  
  
Eithon opened the door quickly. "She is there, lord."  
  
The healer jumped to his feet and turned, his eyes widening in shock. "Lord Elrond!!!!!! I-I-I did not expect you!" he stuttered.  
  
"Why should you?" Elrond returned gently, kneeling beside the bed and brushing a hand over his daughter's cheek.. "Leave me with her. I cannot be interrupted."  
  
The healer nodded, bowing out of the room and closing the door softly behind him. Muttering softly in a language that neither prince knew, the healer walked away, glancing over his shoulder every now and then and shaking his head ruefully.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
What seemed like an eternity passed and no sound came from behind the closed door.  
  
Legolas groaned, taking a small sip of wine. "I had no idea she was this badly hurt."  
  
"If you had gotten her here any later, son of Thranduil, she would have far less chance of survival than she does now," Elrond said, slowly walking out of the room. His face was drawn with weariness and his eyes were dark. "Now she requires rest. See that she is not disturbed."  
  
Legolas nodded quickly, glancing into the dark chamber. "Should someone stay with her?" he asked, an eyebrow raised.  
  
"Yes, I think that would be wise. I think she will recover now, but you should stay with her until she wakes. I must take my leave of you now, I have tarried too long as it is." Elrond laid a hand on Legolas's shoulder and gently squeezed. "I cannot thank you enough for returning my daughter to me."  
  
"She came of her own free will, Lord Elrond. I simply showed her the door. But your thanks are appreciated," Legolas returned gratefully.  
  
Elrond smiled and walked away gracefully, his velvety robes whispering on the stone floor.  
  
Eithon glanced at his younger brother and pushed Legolas toward the door. "Go, Legolas. I will tell Father of her condition. If you need me to watch over her while you rest, send word and I will come."  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and entered the small room. Anorel still lay on the bed, her face pale. He laid a hand softly on her forehead and smiled in relief. Her skin was cool to the touch.  
  
  
  
I hope this chapter isn't too badly written, I just couldn't get it out!!!!!!!! But I am finally back in my writing mode and I should have this finished within the next couple months. I hope. :) :) :) :) :)  
  
Sorry again for the long wait!!!!!!!!  
  
~ Arwen  
  
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! 


	7. The Waking World

Author's note ~ I haven't been keeping my promises, have I. I'm sorry, I keep saying that I will update quickly and I haven't. I couldn't continue on with this story until I had it all figured out. Now that I do, it will get finished by the end of the year.  
  
I would like to extend my thanks to my readers for all of your fantastic reviews, it means a lot to me. And also, although I do know how I am ending the story, I would like to know how you, as my readers, want it to end. Thanks so much! So, on with the show! ~ Arwen  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
  
Chapter VII ~ "The Waking World"  
  
Legolas sighed, leaning deeper into the plush chair. He had been sitting in this room for two days and nights, and another night was fast approaching. Anorel had not shown any signs of waking in all that time, although her breathing was slow and regular and her skin was cool to the touch. The Elf prince knew that she was now sleeping peacefully, as opposed to being unconscious.  
  
"This may well be the first restful sleep that Anorel has had in her life," King Thranduil said, coming over to stand behind his youngest son. "I think that she has deserved it."  
  
"As do I, Father," Legolas replied, standing and stretching his rather stiff muscles. "When will we return her to Rivendell?"  
  
"As soon as she is able to travel. No sooner than what is safe, though. Elrond would be most displeased if his youngest child arrived home for the first time in her life only to collapse from exhaustion."  
  
Laughing, Legolas took a quick sip of wine and sat again, stifling a soft groan. Checking his father's words before they were even spoken, Legolas held up a hand. "I will be fine. As soon as Anorel wakes, I will take some rest in my chambers. Not before."  
  
"You have inherited your mother's stubbornness, I see," Thranduil mused, shaking his head tiredly.  
  
"Strange, as I recall, Mother said the same thing, save that it was your stubbornness that I had inherited."  
  
Thranduil laid a hand on his son's shoulder and smiled. "I would like to speak with Anorel when she is feeling well enough to leave this chamber. Please send her to me when she is ready." Thranduil cast one last glance over the sleeping form of Anorel and left the room.  
  
Although Anorel had heard most of the conversation going on around her, she was not yet certain if it was dream or reality. Although the headache throbbing behind her temples was significant proof to show that she was indeed awake, Anorel could not recognize with any accuracy the voices or the place she was currently in. "Am I in Mirkwood?" she asked softly, her voice laced with the pain that she was feeling.  
  
To his credit, Legolas did not jump, though he waited for a few moments before answering, in order to calm his nerves. "Yes, Anorel, you are in Mirkwood," he replied. "I found you on our southern borders a few days ago and brought you here, to my father's palace."  
  
Anorel slowly opened her eyes and winced in the bright light of the setting sun, which shone directly in through her west window. "So I am free, then," she said softly, carefully sitting up. "Am I to recover here, or be moved elsewhere?"  
  
"Now that you are awake, you should not need much more healing time. One of the best Elven healers in recent history tended to you when you first arrived. I should think that you will be walking about tomorrow. As for the moment, I would suggest that you go back to sleep. Tomorrow will come quickly enough."  
  
~~~~~~~~~ Twelve days later  
  
Anorel stood on the balcony attached to her room, bathed in the bright light of the setting sun. The Palace of Mirkwood stood in one of the only clearings known in the entire forest, so the Silvan Elves could enjoy both the rising and the setting of the sun, Anor.  
  
She smiled happily, finally having a chance to reflect on the events of the past twelve days. Busy was, perhaps, rather inadequate, but it seemed to describe her first two weeks of freedom fairly well. As soon as she was fully recovered, Anorel was introduced to her temporary home, learning much about the ways of Elves. She had also been taught to read, at least, partially taught. Legolas still became frustrated with her from time to time, but only when she purposefully misunderstood his instructions.  
  
Lessons in proper court behavior had also been taken, which Anorel disliked from the very beginning. Sadly, they were necessary.  
  
Equally as necessary were lessons in archery, sword-fighting, and riding. These were far more enjoyable, and much easier for her, as these traits came naturally.  
  
Anorel's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on her door. She half-turned, recognizing the presence behind the door. "Come in, Eithon," she called, feeling slightly curious about this unexpected visit.  
  
Eithon stepped through the doorway and inclined his head politely. "My father wishes you to attend a meeting in the main conference chamber. He says it is an urgent matter. May I escort you?"  
  
Anorel's eyebrows rose as she pondered this. "Of course you may. Why am I to take part in this meeting?"  
  
"You have unique information that is important to us and our survival," Eithon said softly, walking her down the long halls. Pausing before a large pair of double doors, he gave her an encouraging smile. "Good luck."  
  
Anorel stepped across the threshold of the large meeting chamber, looking warily at the many obviously high-ranking Elves sitting around the long, oval table. She moved slowly toward the head of the table and sat in the chair prepared for her. Thranduil sat two seats away, looking very regal and powerful in full royal dress and crown.  
  
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Anorel," he said, smiling at her. "Please, tell us what you know of Sauron, how powerful he is becoming, and so on."  
  
Anorel blinked, studying her hands while she attempted to order her thoughts. "In truth, I know very little about Sauron himself, save that he is indeed becoming more powerful. When I escaped from Mordor, Sauron did not yet have a corporeal form, but he does not need a physical body to inflict pain. I sustained many serious injuries while in Barad-Dur, both from Sauron and from his Orcs."  
  
Thranduil sighed, leaning back into his throne and steepling his fingers. "Very well, thank you. Is there nothing else of importance that you can recall?"  
  
"Nay, my lord, nothing. I will inform you if I do," she promised.  
  
Thranduil turned his attention to the other Elves sitting around the table. "I believe that we are all agreed that there is nothing we can presently do about this situation. But we must be alert, Sauron may well feel the sting of Anorel's escape and take action to retrieve her. Watch Mordor closely, my friends."  
  
Each Elf rose gracefully from his seat and nodded respectfully at Thranduil before turning to one another and talking softly. One tall, handsome Elf extricated himself from the crowd and walked swiftly toward Anorel, his blue eyes fixed on her face. A few steps away, he halted and stared at her, shock slowly spreading over his face.  
  
Legolas stood and moved behind Anorel, his eyes on the Elf. "Glorfindel, an Elf from your father's court."  
  
"Why has he stopped like that?" Anorel asked nervously, watching Glorfindel closely.  
  
"I do not know," Legolas answered, stepping forward slightly. "Glorfindel! You may approach, my friend!"  
  
Glorfindel glanced at Legolas and nodded, walking the last few paces. "I wish to speak with you, Prince Legolas. But first, 'tis an honor to meet you, Lady Anorel. My name is Glorfindel, your father's emissary to this meeting."  
  
She smiled at him, still slightly unsure of herself. "Thank you, Glorfindel. I apologize, I am not sure of what to say under these circumstances."  
  
Glorfindel gave a slightly evil grin. "You have inherited your father's disdain for social functions, I think. You have nothing to be ashamed of, milady. I have brought you a package from your family. There are letters from all of your siblings and your father, as well as a few other items." He took a packet from an hidden pocket inside his robes and handed it to Anorel.  
  
She accepted the package gratefully and excused herself, practically running from the room.  
  
Legolas smiled to himself and turned his attention back to Glorfindel. His smile quickly faded, as he saw turmoil and surprise running rampant on the older Elf's face. "What troubles you, my friend? Never have I seen your emotions so clearly."  
  
Glorfindel glanced around the room before answering, checking that none would overhear their conversation. "Does Anorel always feel that way?"  
  
Legolas quirked an eyebrow, giving Glorfindel a bemused smile. "What do you mean, my friend? Feel what way?"  
  
"This is quite serious, Legolas," Glorfindel said. "What do you sense when you first see Anorel?"  
  
"Mostly what I sense from any other Elf, save that she has within her a touch more darkness than most. But is that not understandable, considering what she has been through?"  
  
Glorfindel laid a hand on Legolas' shoulder, forcing the younger Elf to meet his gaze. "And has that dark feeling been growing larger since the first time you saw her face-to-face?"  
  
Legolas glanced at the floor, casting back into his memory for the answer. "Yes, it has," he said finally, beginning to feel somewhat apprehensive. "What does this mean? You suspect something, I can see it in your eyes."  
  
"I suspect that Anorel may have been meant to escape from Mordor," Glorfindel said slowly. "Sauron is extremely devious, Legolas. He may have plans for Anorel that we cannot even begin to fathom. I can say nothing more until I explore this theory. If Anorel has any type of dark power at work within or without her, I will know."  
  
"And I will inform my father of this new development. Good luck, my friend," Legolas said, clasping Glorfindel's shoulder.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath and threaded his way through the Elves, searching among them for his father. Thranduil stood still at the head of the table, speaking quietly with an Elf from Lothlorien. Legolas waited until his father noticed him before coming closer. "Father, I need to speak with you," he whispered. "Tis important."  
  
Thranduil raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. He excused himself and walked with his son toward the outer halls. "Something troubles you," he said calmly, "else you would not have interrupted my conversation."  
  
"Indeed, Father. Glorfindel believes that something is amiss with this entire situation. He wonders if Anorel was not meant to escape from Mordor."  
  
"I see," Thranduil mused, pondering these new thoughts. "This confirms what I was beginning to suspect myself."  
  
Legolas turned sharply, catching his father's arm. "Then why did I not see it as well?"  
  
"Perhaps because you are too close to her to sense it." Thranduil sighed, knowing that he had only one option left. "Nevertheless, Anorel cannot remain here. We are not in a very defensible position, Rivendell would be safer in an attack. Prepare Anorel for our departure, we leave in two days. But tell her nothing of our suspicions, she does not need to know yet."  
  
"Yes, Father. We will be ready," Legolas said, fighting off the sense of foreboding that was pricking at the corners of his mind. "We will be ready." 


	8. Troubled Waters

Author's note ~ Despite appearances, this chapter is not the end of the story. Actually, after this there are to be three more chapters. Enjoy the ride! And please review, let me know what you think.  
  
Thanks!  
  
Arwen4  
  
"Sun Star ~ Child of Light"  
  
Chapter VIII ~ "Troubled Waters"  
  
Anorel glanced up from her family's letters at the hesitant knock on her door. Recognizing the knock and the presence, she said, "Come in, Legolas."  
  
He walked into the room and softly closed the door. "Are you enjoying your letters?"  
  
Anorel smiled, leaning back against the headboard of her bed and tucking her knees under her chin. "Yes, I am. They are rather difficult to read, but I can understand most of the words."  
  
Legolas nodded absently, sitting next to her. "Good, I am glad that you have had a taste of your true home."  
  
Anorel leaned forward and turned his face toward hers. "Something is bothering you, Legolas. What is it?"  
  
Legolas cursed inwardly at her ability to see through him. "Nothing of importance," he lied. "My father has decided that you are well enough to be taken to Rivendell. We will leave in two days."  
  
Anorel blinked in surprise. "Oh. Is he certain?"  
  
Legolas raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Do you not feel ready to meet your family?"  
  
"No, I do feel ready. They certainly want to meet me, their letters say as much. But something inside me is holding me back," Anorel said softly. She groaned, rising off the bed and pacing the room. "Does that sound odd? I've wanted all my life to have a family, and now that the chance is placed before me, I am almost afraid to go."  
  
"Facing the unknown is always frightening," Legolas said with a smile as he watched her stalk around the room. "But you need not face it alone. Father, Eithon, and I will be there with you."  
  
She smiled back and stopped pacing. "Then I shall be able to face anything. Where do we begin?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Anorel sighed deeply as she cast one last look over the first place on Middle Earth that she could truly call home. "I will miss this place," she said softly, walking with Thranduil across the courtyard. "However, I will consider it a safe haven, a place that I can escape to."  
  
"And you will always be welcome here, Anorel," Thranduil replied, leading her to her horse. "No matter what happens, I want you to remember that. You need never fear returning to Mirkwood."  
  
She mounted her horse and took a deep breath. By studying the maps Thranduil had given her, Anorel knew that the journey to Rivendell would take approximately ten days. That gave her ten days to prepare herself for meeting her new family and seeing Rivendell for the first time. She only hoped that that would be enough time.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~ Seven days out of Mirkwood  
  
Darkness had fallen an hour or so earlier, but Thranduil had chosen not to stop for the night. The area through which they were traveling was extremely perilous, filled with Orcs and other minions of Sauron. Though continuing the journey at night was certainly dangerous, stopping to rest was even more so.  
  
The small company of riders passed through a dense patch of forest, each of them alert for any signs of attack. And despite their best efforts, the attack came swiftly.  
  
Orc howls filled the air, screams so horrible that Anorel froze in the saddle, terrified. All the other Elves had already dismounted and were engaging the Orcs in battle.  
  
Anorel felt herself being yanked from her horse and dragged through the clearing to a large rock. Legolas tugged her down behind it and shook her sharply. "Anorel!" he snapped, seeing the glazed look in her eyes. "Anorel!"  
  
She jolted out of her daze and grasped his steadying arms. "What?!" she gasped, shuddering at the sounds of battle.  
  
"I need you to stay here," he commanded, readying his bow and arrows. "No matter what, stay here. Use your knife if you are threatened. Do you understand?" When she nodded, he quickly laid a hand on her cheek and joined the fray.  
  
After he left, Anorel's panic began to return full force. She pressed her face into her knees, hoping to drown out the horrors going on around her. After a few moments, she did not even notice an arrow embedding itself in a nearby tree.  
  
Suddenly, large, filthy hands jerked Anorel out of her hiding place. One hand clamped down painfully on her wrist, forcing her to drop the knife. She inhaled sharply, finding herself face-to- face with Grondel. He grinned evilly at her, whispering, "Hello, princess. Look around you and see what you have brought down upon these people."  
  
Anorel shook herself free and glanced around the clearing. Her stomach lurched at the horrific sight and tears flooded her eyes. Thranduil, Eithon, and the guards were sprawled around the clearing, each obviously dead. Anorel stumbled to Thranduil's side and fell to her knees, crying softly. "Why have you done this?" she asked, gently stroking the blonde hair away from his face.  
  
"To cause you pain, princess," Grondel said happily, motioning to some other Orcs. They came forward, dragging a struggling figure.  
  
Anorel rose to her feet and ran toward Legolas. Grondel grabbed her around the waist, holding her tightly. "Oh, no, princess. You see, the most pain that we can cause you is to harm the ones you love. He knows how your feelings for this Elf, so...."  
  
Another Orc stepped forward, lifting a bow and aiming it at Legolas.  
  
"No," Anorel whispered, struggling against Grondel's grasp. "Please, I beg of you, do not do this."  
  
"Why not?" Grondel snarled. "Surely you realize by now that you will never be loved by anyone, not the way that you are."  
  
"Perhaps not," Anorel snapped, squirming in his arms. "But I love him."  
  
"Even more reason why he should be killed. Sauron will not allow anyone you love to live."  
  
"Anorel," Legolas whispered. "Be calm, mel nìn. You will survive this."  
  
"But what if I do not want to?" she said, tears streaking down her cheeks.  
  
"You will."  
  
"How sweet," Grondel said, sneering at her. "Kill him."  
  
"NO!!!" Anorel screamed, finally breaking free of Grondel's grip.  
  
But it was too late.  
  
mel nìn ~ my love  
  
Author's note ~ Yes, I know, I'm evil. :) :) But this isn't over, not by a long shot. Please review, give me your opinions, yell at me if you must. Thanks! Arwen4 


	9. The Ultimate Revelations

Author's Note: My deepest apologies for the lapse in updating. My life has been hectic, and I lost the drive to write anything but schoolwork for a while there. Happily, my life has calmed down somewhat, so I will be able to finish this story and hopefully complete my other LOTR story. Thanks for waiting so long!

By the way, the last few chapters in this story will be longer than the preceding chapters, simply because there are no really good places to break these chapters. So, once again, thanks for your patience, and enjoy the story!

Chapter 9 "The Ultimate Revelations"

Legolas jolted sharply out of his slumber, his ears ringing with the force and pitch of Anorel's scream. His heart beating wildly, he realized that she had not been attacked by anything and bolted upright, shaking her roughly. "Anorel!" he snapped. "Anorel. Wake up! It is not real! You are having a nightmare!"

After a few moments of being shaken insistently, Anorel blinked drowsily, slowly coming out of her stupor. She stared blankly at Legolas, not recognizing him at first. Then, as realization dawned on her, she flung herself into his arms, limp with relief.

Legolas sighed shakily, not at all sure what sort of nightmare could have elicited such an emotional reaction from Anorel. A swift glance around the camp revealed that his fellow travelers were all awake and watching them curiously.

His father raised and eyebrow and asked curiously, "Is she all right?"

"I believe so," Legolas replied, carefully standing and pulling Anorel up with him. "But I am not certain."

Anorel slowly backed away and smiled tremulously. "I will be fine, Legolas. Fear not."

He gazed closely at her. "I am not so sure. What occurred in your nightmare that frightened you so badly?"

Anorel's eyes closed for a moment as she recalled the events of her nightmare. "A face from Mordor returned to haunt me. He sought to do me great harm."

Legolas narrowed his eyes as he cupped her chin in one hand. "Anorel, right here, right now, you are safe." He gently drew her into his arms and held her close. "If ever you fear anything, remember this moment and know that I will keep you safe."

Anorel drew a shuddering breath and was still for a moment, her hands hanging limply at her sides. Then, the gruesome parts of her nightmare came crashing down upon her and she saw clearly Legolas' body falling to the forest floor, his heart pierced by an Orc arrow. 

Anorel's face screwed tight in agony and flung her arms around Legolas' neck. Anorel clung to him as though her very life depended on that contact, her entire body shuddering with silent sobs.

Legolas sank onto a nearby boulder, cradling Anorel in his lap. "What is it, nin mel?" he murmured, holding her close. "What has you so frightened?"

Anorel sighed shakily, gluing her eyes to a caterpillar crawling across the leaf-strewn ground. "The Orcs caught up with us here. Grondel, the Orc in charge of torturing me, made certain that all our companions were slaughtered. I saw their bodies lying about the camp," she said, purposely avoiding his gaze.

"And that sight prompted you to awaken screaming?" Legolas whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Anorel turned her face as far away from him as she possibly could, hating the tears that were streaking down her face. "After he killed everyone else, Grondel made me watch as an Orc murdered you." 

Her last words were whispered so softly that Legolas had to strain to hear them, but hear them he did. A faint smile flitted across his face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. "I am honored that my death garnered such a reaction from you," he said, turning her to face him. "But it was just a nightmare, Anorel. None of us here have been killed, and I am most certainly still alive."

Anorel heard his words, but she still could not stand to meet his gaze. Instead, she focused her eyes on the leaf clasp closing his shirt. "I know," she said softly. "But the very thought frightens me to my very core."

Legolas laid a hand on her cheek, tilting her face upward until their eyes met. "Anorel, you are safe here in my arms. I will not let anyone hurt you."

She nodded, feeling the fear and anxiety slowly fade away. Another feeling began welling up inside her, an emotion that she could not truly identify. But as she gazed into Legolas' clear blue eyes, she recognized the same emotion shining out of his eyes, pulling her closer to him.

Legolas slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her head, drawing her face closer to his. In the moment before their lips met, Legolas whispered, "I love you, Anorel."

Anorel smiled, her eyes resting on his. "And I love you, my Legolas."

The kiss they shared was gentle, but meant far more than any words ever could define. When they separated, Legolas swiftly kissed her nose. "Are you able to sleep now?"

Anorel smiled and nodded. "So long as you are here with me, I can sleep."

Two days later-

Anorel bit her lower lip and turned away from the rest of the group. Her stomach churned nervously.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, riding up beside her.

Anorel shook her head, shivering slightly. "No, I am not. I worry about my father and the rest of my family. What if I am not what they are expecting? What if I do not meet with their approval? What i-" Anorel's words were cut off as Legolas pressed a hand against her mouth.

"Enough with that sort of talk. The words 'what if' have no truth. You are projecting your fears onto your family. Those negative feelings do you no good; you should not dwell on them. Your father, your family love you deeply. They do not need to have met you to love you," Legolas said.

"I know, Legolas, I know. I am simply nervous about meeting them for the first time, at least awake. Do you know how far away Rivendell is?

"About an hour. We should arrive long before dusk."

"Does he know that we are so close?" Anorel asked.

"He does by now. My father sent a messenger to him some time ago, and Lord Elrond is so powerful that he can likely sense you coming," Legolas replied.

"If he is so powerful, why can I not sense him?"

"I am not sure," Legolas said, shrugging his shoulders gracefully. "It may have something to do with the fact that you have never encountered his presence that you could identify."

"I suppose," Anorel sighed, attempting to quell the butterflies erupting in her stomach. "But I am still nervous, dear Legolas."

Farther ahead, Thranduil halted at the edge of a deep valley. He smiled broadly and motioned for Anorel and Legolas to ride up to him. "Anorel! Legolas! Come!"

They obeyed immediately, urging their horses forward.

"Look there, Anorel," Thranduil said, directing her gaze into the valley. "That is Rivendell."

Anorel gasped at the sheer beauty of the city. The white buildings, domed and columned, caught her eye in a way that nothing else ever had. "It has a beauty very different than that of Mirkwood," she said, gazing intently at the haven. "But it is truly lovely. More so than I could possibly imagine."

"Atar," Legolas said, his eyes directed somewhere else entirely. "Three riders approach from farther up the path. I cannot tell who they are from this distance, but they are definitely Elves."

Thranduil nodded, watching the Elves ride into view. "I believe that Elrond has sent us official greetings."

"Who are they, Legolas?" Anorel asked, watching the approaching Elves warily.

Legolas smiled. "Glorfindel you have already met. The two riders behind him are your elder brothers, Elladan and Elrohir."

"I see," Anorel said softly. "I was not expecting to meet anyone from my family quite so soon."

"Well, they are here now, so you should prepare yourself quickly," Legolas said, leaning over and kissing her cheek quickly. He turned and walked his horse back to his father, leaving Anorel to collect her thoughts.

Anorel slid off her horse and pressed her forehead into the steed's chocolate brown coat. The horse nickered, turning and blowing hard enough to ruffle Anorel's hair. She smiled and patted his face, not hearing the soft footsteps that approached her from behind.

"Are you all right?"

Anorel turned slowly, taking in the tall, dark-haired Elf who stood before her. His eyes were kind, showing nothing but love and concern for her, but Anorel sensed that this Elf was a warrior at heart. "I am merely nervous, nothing more. You must be one of my brothers, yes?"

Elrohir laughed, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Yes, Anorel. I am your older brother Elrohir, second child of Elrond. Elladan, the other standing next to Legolas, is my twin. We have come to welcome you home, little sister."

Elrond opened his arms wide, welcoming the visitors to Rivendell. "I thank you, King Thranduil, for bringing me this inestimable treasure. Please, consider this haven your home away from home. You will want for nothing."

He walked slowly up to Anorel's horse, gazing upon his youngest child. Elrond felt the pulsing darkness lurking in Anorel's mind, and his heart sank. But he helped her dismount her horse and hugged her tightly, fighting back the tears burning his eyes. "Welcome home, dear daughter. You are well-loved here, never fear." He pulled away and gazed into her eyes. "But we must talk now of serious things."

Elrond stood in his council chamber, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Worry showed plainly on his face, he made no pretense of disguising his concern. The situation facing him now was far out of his control. "Glorfindel, your suspicions were indeed correct. Sauron is taking over Anorel's mind."

"And with her mind, old friend, he also steals her body," Thranduil said, sitting in one of the chairs. "What can be done?"

Elrond sighed heavily, sinking onto his throne. "I have sent messengers to both Gandalf and Saruman. My power alone cannot exorcise Sauron; I can only hope that their combined power will be enough to oust Sauron from my daughter."

Glorfindel nodded, standing and bowing to Elrond and Thranduil. "I could not have suggested a wiser course of action, my lord. If you will give me leave, I will set out into the wilds and assist in the search for the Istari."

"You have my consent. Ride safely, Glorfindel," Elrond said, watching the Elf leave the chamber.

Thranduil rose from his chair and moved toward his friend. "Now that you have told Anorel the truth, she is understandably frightened. Obviously she does not want to be taken over by Sauron, but she also knows that she cannot stop it from happening."

"I cannot even begin to imagine what she is going through right now," Elrond said softly. "All I can feel of her is fear and pain, and darkness. Less and less of Anorel is coming through every moment. Sauron is winning."

Thranduil laid a comforting hand on Elrond's shoulder. "I am sorry for this. To watch your own child be taken over by pure evil and being helpless to do anything about it… I do not believe I would have the strength to survive this, were I you."

" 'Tis the strength of Illuvatar that you see, Thranduil. My own strength fled me the moment I saw her. Only through him am I able to continue on," Elrond remarked softly. "I am grateful to you for staying."

Thranduil laughed, taking a seat again. "Not a problem, old friend. Even if I wished to leave, Legolas and Eithon would never allow it."

"Legolas and Anorel are very close," Elrond mused, watching Thranduil closely. "I sensed his protectiveness when I told Anorel the truth. How deep do his feelings go?"

"He loves her," Thranduil said simply. "He would marry her today if he could. And she returns his feelings."

Elrond nodded, facing the open side of the council chamber. "Thank you for your honesty, Thranduil. I suspected that that was the case, but I wanted to be sure."

" 'Tis well that you know, for I believe that Legolas' love for Anorel and her love for him will play an important role in this. He has a strong connection to her that Sauron cannot sever completely. Legolas may be able to call her back when no other voice will penetrate Sauron's control."

Elrond nodded, knowing that Thranduil's words were wise. The silence that reigned in the chamber cloaked them in comfort, shielding the two Elves from the reality of what lay ahead.

A hesitant voice broke the silence a few minutes later. "My lords Elrond and Thranduil, Prince Legolas has sent for you. He says that Lady Anorel is in great mental pain. He calls for your help immediately."

Elrond sighed, a feeling of great unease settling over his heart. "It has begun." 


End file.
